


Amaranthine

by SamThePuppeteer



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Cafes, Candles, Dates, Death, Dinner, F/M, Immortality, Original work - Freeform, Romance, Waves, fancy words, idk anymore, life - Freeform, now it's not only a vocab story, started as a vocab story and now we're here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-03-09 22:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13491216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamThePuppeteer/pseuds/SamThePuppeteer
Summary: The recollection of a woman and her memories of life.





	1. Exulansis

As the petals flew by my crimson dusted cheeks, I pondered the delicacy that each flower contained. It truly is a wonder that the fundamental structure of nature defines and executes these intricate ultimatums upon its components. The small white fan continues to caress my face with its cool winds.

 

Although the hierarchy of the natural world seems to demarcate the difference between the aspects of its diverse kingdom, I could still feel a connection with these flowers that were losing their most beautiful figments.

 

I knew as though the lachesism spread throughout my body, it was merely occhiolism trapping me within myself. I would attempt to attribute my coral cheeks to the chameleonism my subconscious inflicted on me, but sonder feeling passing by me like a lighter in the darkness told me otherwise.

 

Where my feelings merely to be debated in the democracy of the gods, or was I free-willed?

 

Before I had realized, there were no more petals left on those small, sprinkles of beauty that nature granted us.

 

I slowly stood up, making sure not to induce any symptoms of my frequently low blood sugar. Although the rouge liquid did not flow from my head, the altschmerz rushed through my figure.

 

What would become of me?

 

Would the énoument eat away at my already dwindling midriff?

 

Would it rack throughout my body like a true laugh or would it slowly spread like a malignant tumor?

 

What is this feeling of onism doing in my mind?

 

I looked behind me at the fallen petals, deciding that although I wish I would eventually blow through the wind like them, that day would never come. The curse of immortality really is a curse. The only feeling I crave anymore is the rubatosis that everyone experiences.

 

If only I could.

 

Exulansis:

The tendency to give up trying to talk about 

an experience because people are unable to relate to it.

 

 

 

 


	2. Those Eyes

         

          His eyes were like a black hole.

          They seemed to swallow everything in sight. 

          His vanta black eyes easily capture my heart. But merely capturing my heart was not sufficient for them. 

          Those two eyes peered into my soul. Those eyes looked into mine as if I was an adversary and my soul was to conquer. The opia one felt when looking into those eyes was unique to me. 

          I had never felt so lost yet I knew exactly where I was until I looked into those eyes. They reminded me of the eye of a storm, the ebb of the tides before the waves crashed, the moment of anticipation before the drop of a rollercoaster. 

          My heart felt like it was under a communist rule and all I could get was a spark of the flame, but everyone also got the spark. 

          I was nothing special, just a feather that catches the eye while it floats on by. 

          But his eyes, oh his eyes, would make the feather drift slower, hoping that it could keep those eyes for as long as possible, but the stream of life would eventually push it away. 

          Life would insist that the feather continue its endeavor through life's current. But his eyes held me for longer, a tyrannical rule forcing me to keep still and look deeper. 

          So, I continued to stare into those atramentous eyes until I was forced away.

          When I finally looked away, I realized I was not the feather, but him. 

          He floated by me with no destination, hoping life would take him where he wanted to go. When life permanently caught his eyes, I could no longer hope to see them again. 

          Oh, how I wish I could see those eyes again. A first love's eyes really do stick to the soul. 

          Oh, how I wish I could be held by those eyes.

          But nevertheless, those eyes were gone forever.

          When I die, if I die, I hope to be able to stare into them longer.

          Oh, how I wish for that.        

 


	3. Death, My Old Friend

Dim candles littered the cafe with faint light, like fireflies on a new moon.

People sitting, talking, unaware of their surroundings.

Complaining, Lying, Complimenting, Living, Singing their own tune

All of them, soon to be drowning.

As she sat at the table, surrounded by others yet completely alone,

She contemplated what life would be like without her date tonight.

The quiet LoFi music complemented the passive atmosphere perfectly.

The moment he walked in, the atmosphere changed for her.

Nobody had noticed anything, all still unaware of their surroundings.

For if they realized that their killer walked into the room, they would run.

But no, they sat, minding their own business

As they bloomed into frivolous conversations about nothing of importance.

As Death walked in, her back straightened, but her breath evened out.

For while most would be scared of Death, she welcomed it with open arms;

But Death just walked on by, ignoring her longing.

A rare chance it was indeed, to be talking to her long enemy, Death.

“Eshe, what a warm night! Isn’t it brilliant to be alive right now?”

Death exclaimed in his smooth voice, one that could bring in many victims.

“It would be more brilliant if you would listen to my request,”

Eshe stated, slightly annoyed with Death’s casual greeting.

“For when you are alive, you experience things you don’t know will happen again, but this will surely happen again. The atmosphere is not unique.”

She mentioned with a frown, one of longing for possibilities of the future.

“My dear Eshe, I have blessed you with your life. You have infinite time to explore and experience everything in the world more than twice!”

Death exclaimed in a softer voice than earlier, for a table nearby had been seated.

When Eshe went to reply, a waitress walked up asking for the “couples” order

Food was a mere social construct for them, an option in their lives.

As the waitress left, the two sat, staring at each other with intensity.

“Let me get to my point,” Eshe said, hoping to change the tide of the previous conversation.

“I would like to be able to die. Not right now, not any time soon, but once I get old. I want to be able to die naturally.”

The slight flicker of sadness passed by Death’s face.

“And why would you want to die, my dear? We can live forever, not worrying about doing things in a timely manner.”

Death mentioned, a bit more seriously and persuasively than previously.

“Time is not a restraint, time is a motivator. Without time, nothing will ever get done.”

Eshe stated, with a slight smirk.

She was confident in her choice of words.

“Eshe,” Death warned. “I will not kill you, ever. While you might not understand my reasons, it is essential that you never die. I promise.”

At that moment, their food arrived.

The smell of fresh baked bread wafted around the bustling cafe.

Eshe leaned back in her chair calmly, with confidence.

“Will you truly be able to keep that promise forever? While you might not die soon, you will eventually die. What about the next Death? Will he keep me alive?”

Soon, the atmosphere in the cafe died down.

People started to go a bit quieter, a bit more sentimental.

“I will guarantee that. You will never die, under my watch or otherwise.”

Death stated, standing up as he left the cafe.

“I would like to see you try, old friend.”

Eshe stated lastly, as she left her money on the table and followed Death out

Only wishing she could follow death back to her old home.

“You will never leave me, my love.”

Death whispered before he disappeared completely.

As Eshe looked up at the sky, blanketed by light clouds, she whispered in response,

“I will see you again,”

“my friend."


	4. Nodus Tollens

Nodus Tollens: 

The realization that the plot of your life doesn't make sense to you anymore.

 

 

Golden light dusted the waves, causing them to turn odd colors.

If only I could see that color change within myself.

Knowledge is a powerful thing, yet I have none?

What am I truly?

Will I ever escape this hell?

I am stuck.

Who do you go to when you realize that you are not who you think you are?

Who do you go to when you know that they will no longer be around to confide into?

Lifetimes are merely seconds.

Seconds don't even exist.

What even is time?

Sorry, I'm rambling again.

But does my rambling actually matter?

I am merely taking up a fraction of your time,

and that fraction is much smaller to me.

Why do I ramble when I know that taking that time,

that precious time,

will have no effect on my life?

No one ever told me that life was but a misconception.

No one but Death.

But I guess it makes sense now,

Why Death and I are enemies.

We are opposites.

I guess I had to figure out why I would never die.

For if I wasn't around,

Nor would Death.

What do you do when you find out you  _are_ life?

The question wasn't what is life?

The question was who is life?

But I know the answer,

it is I.

I am Life.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update! I've been kinda ignoring my stories in hope for inspiration, but I found it!   
> I am starting to take AP Literature in about a month, so I'm not sure how much I will be able to update...  
> But the updates will be great hopefully since I'll have a lot of inspiration!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	5. Opia

"

What is freedom?

Is being free something to strive for?

Is uttering small words of encouragement

To an old friend truly encouraging

Or is it placing a hold over them?

Is being alive a freedom of itself,

Or is it a prison?

Love is a mere construct,

Placed to give meaning to something.

But does anything have meaning?

Or are we meaningless creatures,

Merely living our lives

Waiting for them to come to an end?

"

 

The writings in this journal will never come to an end,

For I will always be alive

And I will always think.

And I will always love.

Who would've though

That me,

Life herself,

Would fall in love.

It's happened before,

But this time it is unique.

It is destined,

Destined to never happen.

Like a word stuck on the tip of your tongue,

Or like the search for treasure

That surely doesn't exist.

But why?

Why did this happen to me?

How could a fall for someone?

How could I fall in love with Death?

 

Opia:

The ambigous intensity of

Looking someone in the eye,

which can feel simultaneously

invasive and vulnerable. 


End file.
